


Anniversary

by TheTruthBetween



Series: Tumblr One-Shots [68]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Brother/Sister Incest, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Incest, M/M, Pregnancy, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 17:28:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14194005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTruthBetween/pseuds/TheTruthBetween
Summary: It’s the anniversary. Not their anniversary (hers and Han’s, hers and Luke’s, Luke and Han’s, the three of theirs together – there are so many anniversaries) but *the* anniversary. The anniversary that lead to all the others.





	Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StaringAtTheTwinSuns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StaringAtTheTwinSuns/gifts).



> Prompt from StaringAtTheTwinSuns on tumblr for Han/Luke/Leia and flowers.
> 
> (I’m sorry, I was watching Bright Lights while writing this, so I had a sad, so they had a sad. Oops?

It’s the anniversary. Not their anniversary (hers and Han’s, hers and Luke’s, Luke and Han’s, the three of theirs together – there are so many anniversaries) but  _the_  anniversary. The anniversary that lead to all the others. The anniversary she has to make a conscious decision to not capitalize in her mind, because that would give it a weight it doesn’t deserve.

(It’s weighted, anyway. How can it not be?)

Some years, she can remember it as the anniversary of the day they all met, and when they’re wrapped up together in naked intimacy, it doesn’t matter that it’s also the anniversary of the  _other_.

This year, the  _other_  is all she can think about. With her belly rounded and swollen, the child within restlessly protesting his mother’s turmoil, all she can think of is how her son will never see the mountains she grew up on. The palace where she ran and played and learned the lessons that would shape her into who she is. He would never meet his grandparents, and they, in turn, would never know their grandson.

“Leia?”

She looks up from her musings, hands gently stroking her belly in an attempt to soothe the life within.

Luke looks almost sheepish, apologetic for interrupting her, even though they both know it’s for the best. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just lost in thought.” It’s a lie, and they both know it.

Accepting her answer anyway, Luke nods. “Well, um, Han and I have something for you.” He looks… oddly regretful, like he’s second-guessing himself, and it’s not something she’s used to seeing on her brother’s face.

“All right?” She tilts her head, and allows him to lead her into the main room of their quarters.

The smell hits her first. A soft, sweet fragrance with a uniquely spicy undertone that has her tearing up before she’s even realized what it is. She can feel the faint alarm from both Han and Luke as she takes in the sight of the beautiful flowers, their soft white petals curved downward to expose the pink-speckled inner core.

“Rhelias,” she whispers, barely audible. Her hand trembles as she reaches out to touch one delicate blossom. It’s been years since she’s seen them. They were her favorite, growing up.

“Yeah,” Han’s voice is low and cautious. “We wanted to get you something–” from home “–special.” She hears the unspoken words through their bond, through the Force, but is grateful he hadn’t said them aloud.

“We wanted to give you a piece of Alderaan,” Luke adds, and somehow the mention of her lost home doesn’t hurt as much coming from him. Perhaps because he had lost his own home that day as well.

Her throat is tight and tears streak down her cheeks as she looks up at them, both watching her anxiously, both unsure if they’ve just hurt her more. It hurts, most certainly, but in a good way, a cleansing pain, and the knowledge that something dear to her, even just as small as a simple flower, survived the destruction soothes her soul.

She cannot speak, but through their shared bond she sends a vehement,  _Thank you_.


End file.
